


"We" and "Us"

by TheWriterinFlannel



Series: Black Panther Prompts via Tumblr [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Patching Each Other Up, Post-Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 13:31:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14190021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWriterinFlannel/pseuds/TheWriterinFlannel
Summary: aliceinwolderland asked: Hey :p I saw that you are taking in prompts! Could you do a T'challa x Nakia fic for her patching him up and comforting him after his battle for Killmonger? Thank you!





	"We" and "Us"

To be completely honest, T’Challa was in over his head; at least two of the Dora Milaje were dead, W’kabi was considered a traitor and had to be trailed, and, to say it kindly, Okoye was probably going to have a break down. 

 

Despite all this, the King of Wakanda was sitting in his sleeping quarters, tucking into a plush couch with his ex girlfriend. The former had his bare legs stretched out across Nakia’s lap as he fumbled through a first aid kit for her.

 

“The antibacterial is marked with a purple stripe,” Nakia told her king annoyed by how long we was taking.

 

“The cream or the solution,” T’Challa asked

 

“The cream will stay on longer”

 

Nodding, the king handed Nakia the antibacterial cream. She made quick work of the first wound, moving up his leg and back to patch the man up some more.

 

“Are you okay, Nakia? I know you fell hard during the battle,” T’Challa mumbled into the armrest. 

 

“I’m fine, my king.”

 

T’Challa sat up, pulling himself out of Nakia’s grip. He leaned forward, gripping her chin and making her look at him. “Nakia, please do not lie to me.” Nakia looked away defiantly, hiding her shame from being caught in her lie. The two stayed quiet for another moment.

 

“Nakia, please.”

 

The woman sighed, turning to look black at the man she loved. 

 

“Killmonger swiped me on my leg,” she started quietly. “And I hit the ground pretty hard when he threw me; it’s probably just a bruise.”

 

T’Challa’s eyes darkened angrily; Nakia was here taking care of him when she should be getting help. “I’m not going to the infirmary, not yet at least,” she protested, almost as if she had read his mind. T’Challa offered to patch her up instead, hoping it would get her to look after herself rather then take care of him. Nakia reluctantly agreed.

 

She begrudgingly pulled off what remained of her shredded Dora Milaje pants, hissing when the fabric caught onto the gashes in her leg. T’Challa cringed, but pulled Nakia’s leg into his lap. Unlike Nakia, T’Challa dressed Nakia’s wounds slowly, listening to her talk about how they would get the country back on track. They talked about about Wakandan outreach and how they’d incorporate the Jabari back into their society. 

 

Throughout the conversion, Nakia kept saying “we” and “us”, and honestly, T’Challa liked the sound of that most.


End file.
